


Wait, how do you spell "epiphany"?

by sourkitteh



Category: Bring Me The Horizon
Genre: Cults, Devotion, Drug Use, Gen, Interviews, cultverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 07:40:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29881275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sourkitteh/pseuds/sourkitteh
Summary: Could i have your attention please?
Comments: 4
Kudos: 2





	Wait, how do you spell "epiphany"?

\-----

"Your music is very emotional" Oli smiles widely, eyes shifting towards the camera for a split-second before returning to the journalist "some may say even depressing. Do you think promoting this kind of maudlin music to today's generation is acceptable, with the rising cases of mental health problems, i mean?"

Oli clasps his hands together and leans forward, elbows resting against his knees before peering down the camera lens "i feel like we shouldn't coddle our children. They feel all the emotions we all feel, i just give them a helping hand in learning about their own empathy"

The journalist thinks for a second, eyes staring at the calm man sitting in front of them "and what about those rumours of children finding and using your music when they are not mentally strong enough?"

"I invite them all to come to our shows, embrace what we are doing by showing that the world isn't perfect but together we can try and make it better" Oli's smile is genuine, his eyes blinking slowly as his hands grasp together. The journalist bites at her lip, stares at the cards in her hands before finally with a sigh asks "and what about the people who think you're running some kind of cult?" 

Oli's smile turns into a smirk, and he shakes his head "i dont know anything about that, i'm just a singer in a band"

\-----

They start off like any other band, playing pubs and tiny venues, learning the craft and working out the message they would send out to the world. Popularity came quickly. Oli's voice resonating with the youth that yearned for acceptance and retribution. The lyrics weren't as important to start with, the sheer anger of the sentiment enough to drag attention their way.

Small venues turned into bigger venues and Oli's voice got stronger, his hands held aloft as he growled the message, the words falling from his tongue and hooking into the people who already worshiped him like a god. 

The right sort of industry people soon followed, listening to the whispers of angry children and depressed teens. The riffraff of society that hadn't been left at the curbside yet, but only because their parents still liked to pretend that the perfect home still existed.

\-- 

Oli keeps his notebook close to his chest, his band mates mull around, accepting his words as long as they can play. Their instruments get better as they get more popular and Oli gives them the words, the ideas to make the message even bigger and better.

He watches the kids at the barriers, the dark clothes, the tear stained faces as they try to scream as loud as he can. A few stand out. Girls with black eyes and boys with black fingernails. He moves among them, his open fingers curling around bones and smoothing against skin. His voice screaming his words, his message against their sweaty temples. The ones who close their eyes and embrace him, cling to him in a way that shows devotion but not want, they get a look, a glance that Oli shares with the security before he's dragging himself back onstage. They are the first, the messengers who will help to spread his words even further.

\----

Backstage, the waiting rooms get busier, family members give way to other teens who shift around trying not to look so excited to be amongst their heroes. Oli sits back, back against the wall and stares upon his people. The new ones are always the cutest. He watches their timidness, the awe in their eyes as he allows them to get closer, index finger curled to motion one of them to come closer again. His hand pats the seat beside him and the boy is quick to sit. 

The message flows easy now, Oli's words dripping from his tongue and into the willing ear of another teen ready to be saved. If Oli's hand curls around the boys knee to press closer, then nothing is said. Oli's words are like honey, and he knows everyone has a sweet tooth.

Security dont come into the backroom with them now. The band all hang around, ignoring the aura that surrounds Oli when he's like this. They've all been there, know the message by rote and when the boy stands on shaky legs, they are quick to pull them away with one hand, the other holding a drink to mask the blur in their eyes. Oli smiles widely and will sit back, observing his kingdom in this small dingy room.

\---

It doesn't take long before the music journalists want answers, award shows beg for the band to come play. The band all agree that it will be amazing but Oli is already in his head, formulating the words to spread the message on a larger scale. 

The fans are feral with the need for more. He's seen the pictures of the crowds. The message boards full of wants and wishes from the fans to the band. More music, more gigs, the merchandise sell out quickly and Oli grins through it all. 

Tattoo magazines contact them, journalists wanting to know why this young angry kid has chosen to cover himself in ink already. Oli stares down at the words and images. Fingers run across the ink, and he chooses then, thats where his next message will go.

The fans go crazy. Tattoos start appearing on fan sites, kids talking about what they want and how much the band have saved their lives. For each new tattoo Oli gets, the fans get two or three. On the next tour the fans who embrace the message from Oli also get it inked into their skin forever. 

\-----

The thrill of the message starts to lull, Oli has the attention of the people, anger from those who choose not to accept his message but devotion from those that reach out with clinging hands at every show. 

Oli is bored. 

The award shows happen and Oli is angry. He can feel the disrespect from backstage. The small group of fans that aren't the band mull around, talking about other bands that are playing tonight. Oli observes it all, watches as people flicker in and out before he's curling himself into a toilet cubicle with a guitarist from a shit band from down south.

The first hit is amazing, is the best Oli has ever felt even if his nose is burning and his hands shake. His band mates watch as he returns, or maybe thats just his paranoia again. The fans all want to curl up to him but Oli wants to scream. His palms sweat and his mouth is dry as he downs shots of vodka before he stumbles on stage.

He doesn't remember the show, but it goes down as the wildest thing people have seen. His band dont look at him but Oli feels alive. The industry is watching and Oli has a message. 

\----

Devotion comes in many ways. Oli shows it by spreading his message, looking for the weak and making them stronger. Some show devotion through their skills, playing instruments and agreeing to do whatever they can for the band. Others will do anything, everything to be able to cling to a band that has saved their lives. Oli likes that kind of devotion the best. Can use that devotion to make the whole world better.

\-----

The highs dont last, Oli gets worse, his words grow cloudy as his mind jumbles. His mother doesn't look at him anymore as his dad tries his best to help a son that doesn't show anything anymore. The bands devotees murmur, every gig is a war and Oli has stopped spreading his word, doesn't even look into the crowd at the new fans.

Jordan gets another tattoo, a design that Oli made himself. He pulls him close, forehead pressed against forehead. Oli's eyes roll, but he listens, clings to the message Jordan gives him, tries to remember how it used to be his words that saved the souls of the hurt. "Come back to us, let us save you" Oli nods his head even as his brain finally gives into the high that stings like thumbtacks in his skin.

\----

He cuts his hair and changes his clothes. The words come out stronger, with an upbeat and Oli reads all the reviews. Sell out, pop music, trash. Oli grins through it all and stares out at the new devoted masses. Younger kids with their parent bought merch stand in queues to meet them. Oli smiles at parents and accepts hugs. 

The journalists are rabid, asking why they've changed and Oli is truthful. The drugs dont work. The words are what heal me. Older fans get angry but Oli can still see, familiar tattoos that were once new, now slightly faded still accept his hand when offered "i loved your first cd man" Oli nods and smiles, fingers running across the tatted skin. The familiar design a comfort even if the words muttered sometimes hurt. "Just wait and see. It's a test, its all a test to see how truly devoted you are" the fans still complain about the new sound, but Oli embraces them all into the new messages they just can't see yet.

\---

"The girl was a child. You do realise that this new music is hitting a younger audience?" Oli sits back in his seat. His eyes lock on the journalist, and he sighs "i'm just a singer sir" there's a silence in the room, the usual questions already gone, the girl had been young. But hadn't been to a show so Oli doesn't truly understand why it would be his fault. 

The parents all cry and then show anger with each interview. Such a good girl, lulled in by a poppy beat before she was searching, looking further into the messages that she had yet to hear live. The fans are divided, and the message split between old and new but Oli remains seated. His palms spread to the sky as he posts another selfie onto social media, "I love you all. And i believe you all know that. This band isn't just for us now. It's up to you guys"

The fans turn rabid and Oli watches the storm through the shield of his security.

**Author's Note:**

> I started off with one idea but then this took control and ended up in such a different place, and i kind of like that? I also want to write and explore this verse so much more because omg the possibilities!


End file.
